


Change of Plans

by Sarah1281



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eamon really thought that all his plans were coming together personally. Then Alistair inexplicably sacrificed himself to end the Blight and save his betrothed. Somehow this means the nobles want Anora back. It's occurring to Eamon that perhaps his fortunes are about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of Plans

Arl Eamon just knew that this was Anora's fault somehow. Or her commoner father's. Or possibly someone named Morrigan's if that dear, sweet Cousland girl's mutterings could be believed. She was probably a commoner and if there was one thing he had learned at an early age it was that commoners ruined everything.

It was probably that commoner mother of Alistair's (whoever she was since it certainly wasn't that conveniently dead servant they told him it was) who inspired this sort of idiocy in him. And what a way to repay Eamon after the years of looking after Alistair and sending him off to the Chantry!

Alistair was king. Cailan being king would have been better but, well, Eamon had heard something about how Loghain had ordered his army to retreat at Ostagar before personally running down to stab Cailan in the face and then running away again like some sort of evil coward.

So…Alistair, then. Alistair wasn't anywhere near as good because he wasn't Eamon's nephew but it could have been worse. Alistair adored him. And he was a Grey Warden who needed Eamon's help to unite the country since Loghain, who he hated because some soldier died at Ostagar or something, had declared them traitors to Loghain. Well, he said 'the crown' but what he really meant was Loghain.

And, given the terrible oversight that was Maric never actually telling anyone about Alistair (which Eamon had always suspected was because he knew Loghain's obsession with Rowan would lead him to go and stab that small child in the face), it really was fortunate that they looked so much alike or that plan never would have worked out.

Yes, maybe Isolde hadn't stopped twitching since she heard that Alistair was to be king and Teagan cautioned him that it was highly unlikely that the Landsmeet would choose an unacknowledged and untrained bastard Grey Warden who was almost a templar as their king when they could just choose Anora or a member of another noble family.

But hadn't he been right in the end? The Cousland girl had cut off Loghain's head and that meant that she got to single-handedly choose who would rule now. She chose herself and, for some reason, hesitated a bit before continuing that she would be ruling beside Alistair.

And what could Anora do? It wouldn't do to execute a popular figure who was also the grieving widow of the previous king and literally covered in her father's blood in front of all those people. It would make them look unsympathetic. So she was packed off to Fort Drakon to await her quiet execution once they had a moment to spare. Teagan convinced him to at least wait until the Blight was over, and it wasn't as if he were in any hurry, in case something happened to Alistair and they needed to avoid another civil war breaking out.

It was a preposterous idea, of course, that anything could happen to Alistair. Just because he had insisted on fighting on the front lines with his and his betrothed's ragtag group of allies and not anywhere near the army didn't mean he'd do anything stupid. He was young, he was in love, and he had stopped turning so green every time Eamon used the word 'king' in his presence. He had everything to live for and the Theirin line was secure.

And then it came out that he had foolishly sacrificed himself to kill the Archdemon. And it wasn't as though it were a bad way to die, per se, and the damn thing really needed to be killed. But did Alistair have to go and ruin everything? Oh, it wasn't his fault, really. Poor boy never did have any sense. That was why he had needed Eamon to look out for him! But not it was too late. Now people wouldn't stop muttering about Anora.

Now he was in Fort Drakon and far more tempted than he should be to just turn around, return to Redcliffe, and never venture outside again. There was no way Anora would name him her chancellor. She probably wouldn't even have one and insist on making all the ruling decisions herself. If it weren't for the fact that the undead had so very recently devastated his village, he would probably already be halfway back there.

When he reached Anora's cell, she had clearly already been given the news for she was sitting imperiously on her bench. She was dressed as a commoner but she didn't seem to notice.

"Ah, Arl Eamon," she said pleasantly once she spotted him. "What ever could you be doing here?"

Eamon hesitated. He really did not want to have to deliver the news but it was not as if refusing to tell her would change anything. And if he waited too long she'd know he was stalling.

"It seems that King Alistair has nobly fallen defeating the Archdemon," Eamon said gravely.

Anora raised an eyebrow dubiously. "King Alistair, was it? I had been led to believe the coronation would not be taking place until after the Blight had been defeated."

"It's a technicality, really," Eamon said, glaring. "Alistair was chosen to be king by the Landmseet and served as king during its most desperate hour. A coronation does not change that."

"I think I know a few people who would say something about when Ferelden's most desperate hour truly was," Anora said. "Popular choices include when Queen Moira was betrayed and slain and when West Hill became a disaster and my father, King Maric, and Queen Rowan were separated from their army and had to flee to the Deep Roads. But yes, the shortest Blight in history was also a very tense moment."

"Unfortunately," Eamon said, ignoring that, "there do not appear to be any more Theirins to inherit the throne."

"Oh yes," Anora said, nodding. "I had noticed that, despite Cailan's many affairs, he was thoughtful enough to not leave any bastards lying around to cause trouble for the trueborn children he never had. No other noble has managed to do such a thing so I am doubly impressed."

Eamon bristled. "Just what ware you implying about your late husband and king?"

"Oh nothing, nothing," Anora assured him. "Obviously I was the reason we never had children."

"I'm glad to see you admit it," he snapped.

"Did you come here merely to inform that that Alistair was dead?" Anora asked. "Because if you did, you may consider me informed and be on your way."

"You know that I did not."

"How could I know such a thing?" Anora asked. "Very well, what else have you come to say?"

"Alistair's betrothed wished to take up the throne as planned in his name," Eamon revealed. He hadn't particularly wanted that, hadn't particularly wanted her in the picture at all as it prevented Alistair from being married to some nice Orlesian girl, but it would have been a damn sight better than having to come groveling to Anora of all people.

"Wished?"

"The nobles did not like that idea and the commoners liked it even less, seeing it as a blatant power grab and calling her 'Queen Cousland'," Eamon said.

"It is almost as though she, as the betrothed to someone who was never crowned king, has less of a claim to the throne than the actual wife of an actual king," Anora said, her eyes wide. "I cannot believe this, truly I cannot."

"Your glibness does you no credit."

"Glib," Anora repeated. "You think I'm being glib? Please, say what you have come to say and be done with it."

Eamon took a deep breath. "The Landsmeet has…decided…in light of…recent events…"

"Yes?"

"They wish for you to be queen."

"Do they now."

"You're not surprised," Eamon noted.

"Am I surprised that, with the magical Theirin bloodline no longer confusing the issue, people would rather see me rule with the years of experience I have than someone who is unproven?" Anora asked rhetorically. "No, actually, I am not. I did not particularly expect Alistair to perish fighting the Blight but he was a Grey Warden and their jobs are very dangerous."

"But you're a commoner!" Eamon burst out.

Anora gave him a deeply unimpressed look. "Do you-do you actually know what that means?"

Eamon drew back, affronted. "Why wouldn't I? Everyone knows what a commoner is, Anora."

"I just feel that, while you say that and while you may have a point that everyone should know what it means, the fact you just called me a commoner belies that point."

Eamon said nothing, just looking uncertainly at her.

Anora sighed. "I'm not a commoner, Eamon."

"Your father was a farmer and your mother was the daughter of a cabinet maker," Eamon accused.

"Yes, yes, and a long time ago your precious King Maric was nothing but a hunted rebel with a respected bloodline," Anora said impatiently. "But then he reclaimed his throne and elevated my father to the ranks of the high nobility. He elevated my father above you and your vaunted bloodline. And then when he married my mother she became your social superior, too. While they were made into nobility and no longer commoners, I was born into nobility. Born into a betrothal with the future king. And now I am to be queen myself and my children, your future rulers, will be Mac Tirs. I understand you don't seem to grasp the concept of social mobility but at some point your insistence that I am a commoner comes across as a little lacking in reality."

"Just because your parents were teyrn and teyrna and you yourself are queen doesn't mean you're not still all commoners," Eamon said stubbornly.

"It…really does," Anora said. "But clearly you're outvoted so it does not matter if you can accept this or not."

"I just don't understand," Eamon complained. "Why can't I be the king? Teagan could take Redcliffe."

"Well, while obviously I haven't had the chance to raise the issue with anyone, the fact that your sister was the previous king's mother and was queen for a very, very short time before her death is one degree of separation less than I've got," Anora said. "Then there's the fact that, while it may not have been your fault you were poisoned, you didn't really do anything during the civil war and Blight until the Landsmeet. Your village was decimated by…corpses, if what I've heard is true. And your last bright idea with Alistair clearly didn't work and you got everyone all fired up about how we need a Theirin and now we can't have one. You only have one child and your wife is getting older. Your child is a mage who people say was behind whatever really happened at Redcliffe. Your wife herself is Orlesian and still has very strong ties there. You-"

"Or why couldn't poor Alistiar's betrothed become queen?" Eamon asked loudly. "Everyone loves the Couslands and her father almost became king after Maric's death."

"A move I remember you opposing," Anora said pointedly. "And that was Bryce Cousland who people liked for his skills, not because they wanted the Couslands to be the new Theirins. But the Couslands stayed largely out of Denerim and had the girl even been before Ostagar? I know I'd never met her."

"Well, no," Eamon conceded. "But look at what she's accomplished! Your father turned away the Grey Wardens because of his paranoia and the Blight almost killed us all! It was only through her and Alistair somehow managing to raise an army from within our borders that won us the day!"

"I'd hardly call looking at historical record of foreign powers wanting to come in and help and then subjugating the formerly Blighted land and not being interested in allowing in the Orlesian chevaliers my father's 'paranoia'," Anora said icily. "Nor would I consider acknowledging that there are many in Orlais who consider us little more than a rebellious territory needing to be reclaimed evidence of that either. And no one knows what my father would have done had the Grey Wardens made their offer without insisting on being accompanied by the chevaliers."

"If Rirodan is any indication, if they had stepped foot in Ferelden they'd have found themselves in one of your father's dungeons."

"Wasn't that Howe?" Anora asked. "And none of the crimes you want to lay at his or my father's doorstep, and I will admit that there were crimes committed, had anything to do with me."

"So you're claiming you were absolutely powerless?" Eamon asked. "And you say you'll be a strong queen."

"I had no official power. My title was merely that of the late king's wife. My father was in command of the armies of Ferelden. I think my predicament is a little understandable. And given that you claim you were poisoned by a blood mage in my father's employ and are only alive now because the Grey Wardens found the apocryphal Sacred Ashes I would think you'd be a little more understanding of how these things can happen."

Eamon, try as he might, could not think of an appropriate argument for that. "What about the way that you betrayed us at the Landsmeet?"

Anora actually rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, let's hear all about this 'betrayal.' I think I heard quite enough about how I 'betrayed' you all at Howe's estate."

"Well if you'd like to start there then why not?" Eamon asked rhetorically. "They went to Howe's estate specifically to rescue you. Killing him, while useful to our cause, raised some eyebrows with the Landsmeet and if they hadn't had such a list of crimes to lay at his feet could have caused some real problems. And how do you repay them? Accusing them of kidnapping you and forcing them to kill Ser Cauthrien and her men. Their position was precarious enough and you added kidnapping the queen to the list of charges? They would have been killed!"

"I told them, not five minutes before Ser Cauthrien showed up, that under no condition was anyone to be told who I was until we made it back to your estate," Anora said with a quite uncalled-for air of exaggerated patience. "I told them. I explained my reasoning. I feared for my life, as Erlina told you when she went for help. I was even wearing a guard uniform to disguise myself! And they promised. And yet the second Ser Cauthrien showed up to take them in for questioning about Howe's death – though I have no idea how anyone could have found out so quickly – all they could do was point at me and let them know who I was. What could I do? Let my father know that I was conspiring with his enemies? I'm sure you can imagine how well that would have went. The best I could hope for was being confined 'for my own good' while my father stole the throne from me. If your Wardens had simply done as they had promised instead of tripping over themselves to endanger my life then perhaps I wouldn't have had to make such claims."

"You shouldn't have made them promise in the first place," Eamon said stubbornly.

Anora just sighed. "And then I suppose you're mad about the Landsmeet."

"Of course I am! You told everyone that the Wardens were criminals and they should support your father!"

"And do you think I wanted to do that?" Anora demanded. "My father held a coup and then refused to even admit it. I was looking for allies. I even approached your Wardens about working together."

"And your idea of working together is accusing them of treason?" Eamon asked skeptically.

Anora shook her head. "No, I simply asked that they support me being queen and that they not kill my father if a reasonable alternative presented itself. It's not my fault that she told me that she was going to rule with Alistair and execute my father as a wedding present to him no matter what the consequences of doing that was. Do you really expect me to have sided with you after that? I would have lost everything and been better off with my father in power hoping at least he'd step down after defeating the Blight. And she appeared to want to kill my father just because Alistair lost one person at Ostagar and he has no reason to even believe Duncan would have lived had my father charged."

"You didn't tell her you wouldn't support her," Eamon said. "You made her think you would be on her side."

Anora rolled her eyes again. "If she honestly thought I'd support her after what she said then that makes her a fool. And I couldn't just be honest. If I was, you'd have never let me attend the Landsmeet and I'd have had no chance of keeping my throne."

"You were never going to keep that throne," Eamon told her. "It was never yours. It belongs to the Theirins."

"And now they're dead and you're here," Anora pointed out. "And no matter how you feel about it, all your grand schemes have come to nothing. You would-be king died a hero and I'll not deny him that. I hope he at least got some satisfaction at seeing my father brutally cut down before he died. But any talk of him taking my place at this point is a little pointless, don't you think?"

"It should have been him."

"He made his choices," Anora said. "From what I hear, he sacrificed himself to save his beloved. I hope she can take comfort from that because, even had he not died, under those circumstances she'd never have been queen. Arl Eamon, you've unlawfully detained me here. I've done nothing wrong. When Bryce Cousland was sought after for king he was not imprisoned here when Cailan took control. If he had accepted, he would not have locked Cailan up. You treat me like a traitor and now I'm to rule after all."

"I don't trust you," Eamon said bluntly.

"That's unfortunate," Anora said calmly, "though hardly one-sided. Now are you going to let me out of here or should we call the court in to have my coronation here?"

Grudgingly, Eamon gestured for the door to be opened.

Anora walked past him without a second glance.

This was going to be a very long reign, wasn't it? Perhaps a trip to Orlais was in order.


End file.
